


The Greatest City in the World

by Aurelia_Combeferre



Series: The Greatest City in the World [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Les Misérables - All Media Types, Noli Me Tangere & Related Works - José Rizal, Oliver Twist - All Media Types
Genre: Climate Change, Crossover, Drama, F/M, M/M, Modern Day, Politics, Romance, philippines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:40:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6929065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurelia_Combeferre/pseuds/Aurelia_Combeferre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eponine Thenardier and her roommate Juli de Dios get caught up with their friends' political shenanigans as well as the sins of the past, all while trying to survive an increasingly flooded city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Alright here it is: the major 18th-19th century literature/history crossover. Heaven save us all.   
> Note that I certainly do not own the characters or situations created by Victor Hugo, Jose Rizal, Charles Dickens, Goerge Stendhal, or Emile Zola. Likewise I don’t any historical figures here, or how they were portrayed in the musical “Hamilton”.

**THE GREATEST CITY IN THE WORLD**

_Book 1_

_Chapter 1: A Street Turned Into a River_

_August 2012_

“Rain’s coming in any moment. You’d better start moving.”

Eponine Thenardier merely cast a glance at her left wrist even as she set down her still half-full cup of black coffee. “I’ve got an umbrella anyway, Ma’am Fantine. It’s only a short walk to the bus stop,” she replied, pausing only to brush a strand of brown hair out of her eyes. “Nothing to it.”

“It’s the gutter I’m more worried about,” the cafe’s proprietor pointed out. She wiped her hands on her still white apron before going to turn up the volume on the flatscreen TV above the counter.  For a few moments the blare of a commercial filled the still quiet cafe, prompting Fantine to adjust the controls once more before setting the remote aside. “Second typhoon in as many months!”

‘ _Which is why they say the world is ending, a shame really,’_ Eponine noted as she brought her cup of coffee closer to her nose just to savor its nutty aroma. The _Chez Fauchelevent_ was one place she could count on to provide a respectful cup of the famed Robusta brew known as _barako_. In her twenty three years of life, Eponine had come across few such establishments. ‘ _A cup for fifty pesos only, and that’s fifty pesos I shouldn’t have had today,’_ the young woman thought as she sipped her drink. She set down her cup just as the cafe door clattered open. “Looks like you escaped the evening shift, Cosette,” she said by way of greeting to the newcomer, who was smoothing down her rumpled blue scrub suit.

“I’m doing back to back shifts next week though at the emergency room,” Cosette Fauchelevent replied, giving Eponine a warm smile as she passed by her friend’s table. Unlike her mother, who wore her brassy golden tresses in a hairnet, Cosette had taken the liberty of letting her long dark hair hang loose past her shoulders. “Mom, I stopped by the grocery,” Cosette said to Fantine as she handed over a plastic bag.

“Thank you, dear. I was beginning to worry about my roots,” Fantine said as she patted Cosette’s cheek. “I know you’re tired honey, but could you put some bread and snacks out before you go to sleep? Your father is still fixing the roof, but we still have to prepare for all the customers tonight.”

“That’s all---no other food?”

“I already have some things prepared if they want actual meals.”

Cosette nodded before stepping aside to let her mother go to the washroom. “Are you waiting for someone, Ponine?” she asked lightly while she put some rolls, cakes, and wrapped snacks into a few racks on the counter. “It’s time for a rain check.”

“Maybe,” Eponine muttered, trying not to flinch at the nickname. ‘ _She probably already guessed anyway, but she doesn’t have to be so teasing about it,’_ she thought as she glanced up at the TV, which now showed a map of the Philippines all covered in red to show the incoming storm’s trajectory through the archipelago. ‘ _The rain will probably let up before midnight anyway,’_ she decided before bringing out a thick sheaf of paper from her blue backpack.

Cosette yawned and stretched behind the counter.  “Don’t hang around too late. They say it’s going to flood tonight.”

“Don’t let your parents catch you saying that,” Eponine retorted in a singsong tone. ‘ _Not like Fantine would notice; she gets engrossed when dyeing her hair,’_ she thought as she listened to Cosette’s footsteps headed to the storey above the cafe. She thumbed through the stack of paper for an article on refugees before donning a pair of earphones and turning up the volume to drown out the patter of rain against the cafe’s glass window. “Why do professors think that grad students are waterproof?” she groused before beginning her reading.

When she looked up from a particularly lengthy paragraph, she saw that the yellow streetlamp outside the _Chez Fauchelevent_ had finally been switched on, owing to the late afternoon hour as well as the now roaring downpour. Eponine leaned out of her seat to try to catch a glimpse of the rising run off in the street, only to get her view blocked by three fair young ladies and a tall man ducking into the cafe. “How high is it now?” she asked.

One of the girls gestured midway up her sopping wet black boots. “It’s worse down the street,” she said to Eponine. She looked to her companions, who were scurrying to a table in a corner. “Eliza, did you and Peggy bring the promo cards?”

“Not to worry, Angelica” the young male newcomer said, bringing out his wallet. “It’s on me.”

“You’re really too good Lafayette!” one of the younger girls gushed.

‘ _And another one bites the dust,’_ Eponine thought before shaking her head at the recollection of another seeming act of gallantry earlier in the day, one that she’d been on the receiving end of. ‘ _Seriously what kind of guy pays for a girl’s photocopy bill?’_ she wondered as she continued her studying, now paying less heed to the other patrons filling up the cafe.

Suddenly Eponine heard the door slam open and shut again, prompting her to look in the general direction of a young couple shaking out a black umbrella in the cafe doorway. “I thought you were going home early today!” she exclaimed. “I was looking forward to having the room to myself!”

“I decided to help Basilio with typing up his patient history,” the female half of this pair said through her chattering teeth. “What kind of coffee did you get, Eponine?”

“Let’s get you out of this wet jacket first, Juli,” the young man named Basilio said as he tugged on the sleeve of his partner’s coat.

Juli shrugged off the jacket gratefully before nodding to where Fantine was stirring some milk into a drink. “We left a mess. Sorry Ma’am Fantine,” she greeted.

Fantine gasped on seeing Juli. “Now don’t say sorry, you two sit there and get warm. Can’t have you catching your death here!”  She immediately went to the door leading to the stairwell. “Jean!  Could you please bring down two big towels? I’m sure I brought those up from the laundry already yesterday!”

“Who needs them?” a low voice called from upstairs.

“Basilio and Juli!” Fantine replied. She handed a clean hairbrush to Juli. “Just because you moved on from working here last year, doesn’t mean we’ll put you out in this weather.”

Basilio chuckled as he began checking the sodden contents of his own backpack. By this time his complexion had resumed its usual healthy golden brown. “The food is better here than at the medical school anyway,” he pointed out. He glanced outside and shook his head. “Hopefully this stops soon, so I can get you and Juli back to your dorm safely.”

“Apartment,” Eponine corrected. “We’re not a bunch of college students anymore. You’re almost a doctor already and you’re still calling it that?”

“Well I live in a dorm,” Basilio pointed out.

Juli reached over to rub Basilio’s shoulders before giving him a light kiss on his cheek. “Papa and I will help you get a better place.” She sighed as she looked at Eponine. “The last time, the flood didn’t reach our room, right?”

‘ _Only because the rain stopped after maybe an hour,’_ Eponine thought as she shook her head at her roommate. “Did you leave something on the floor?”

Juli buried her face in Basilio’s shoulder. “Maybe the water won’t reach that high.”

Eponine hissed as she picked up her coffee again. “It’s nice to think about that,” she murmured. Truth be told, the floodwaters seemed to rise higher and higher every year. ‘ _At least we don’t live by a river,’_ she thought as she checked her wallet once more. ‘ _One hundred and fifty pesos extra---but that’s not going to be enough to get a cab out in this weather.’_ The very thought of walking home, a usual practice of hers, was enough to send a shudder through her bones as she looked out towards the street now awash with water sloshing onto the sidewalk.  


	2. Men of the Hour

_Chapter 2: Men of the Hour_

Even before the rains had properly abated, a small group of able bodied persons was already gathering at a large warehouse in Mandaluyong City. “There are more storms coming in this year, Chief. We might be better off packing reserve goods so we can just send them out instead of mobilizing volunteers and new goods each storm,” one of the older volunteers, a medical student, said to his friend.

“Perhaps we can even be proactive and send them to evacuation centers in advance, Combeferre,” Miguel Enjolras suggested, clapping Combeferre’s shoulder. The tall young man brushed his sweaty dark blond hair out of his face before looking around the warehouse now swarming with volunteers sorting and packing relief goods and supplies. ‘ _At least the response is faster each year,’_ he thought as he checked his phone for any new messages from Lamarque or any of the higher-ups in the Center for Calamity Relief and Management.

“Enjolras, we got them!” a familiar voice shouted from the far end of the warehouse. Enjolras and Combeferre turned to see a rotund young man jogging up to them, taking care to hop over some bags of instant noodles and canned sardines. “One hundred packs of _adobo_ fresh from the cooking school---“

“ _Culinary_ school! Precision of language, Courfeyrac!” a burly, unshaven man bellowed from where he was carrying in some large sacks of rice.

“I said it already, Bahorel!”

Enjolras smirked knowingly at this exchange even as he went over to inspect Courfeyrac’s latest acquisitions, which consisted of sealed plastic jars filled with freshly cooked rice and shredded chicken and pork. “Good job. To whom do we owe our thanks?” he asked Courfeyrac.

“I’ve already got that covered, and sent my compliments to the chefs,” Courfeyrac said with a grin, showing off a pad he kept in his pocket, clearly meant for writing thank you cards. “What are we going to do next, Chief?”

Enjolras did not say anything for a few moments as he surveyed the various groups working in the warehouse. One area was allocated for packing ready to eat food, water, candles, batteries, and first aid supplies needed for immediate distribution in evacuation centers or areas were rescue was still underway. The middle of the room was dedicated to sorting and packing noodles, uncooked rice, canned goods and toiletries as part of the usual relief packages. At the far end of the hall was a huge pile of donated clothes, tarpaulins, and tents. He picked up one of the jars of food and surmised its contents once more. “This is good for two, maybe three people,” he observed. “Each bag of ready-to-eat meals should be good for four to six people, that number corresponds to one household.”

“And water. Don’t forget the water!” Combeferre hollered from where he had now joined a group preparing first aid kits. “We only have three hundred bottles here. “

Courfeyrac let out a dramatic sigh. “Water, water everywhere and not a drop to actually drink!”

Enjolras clapped Courfeyrac’s shoulder before going over to where Bahorel was talking with three other young men who were holding up and ridiculing some oversized and torn shirts in the donation pile. He tapped Bahorel’s arm. “What’s going on here?”

Bahorel jerked his thumb towards his three companions. “Pecson and Isagani despairing at Tadeo, as usual,” he said drolly.

“I only need your opinion on this jersey,” Tadeo said, holding up a red football jersey to his broad chest.  “Have you no trust in your gentlemanly aesthetic----“

“Yes, and you can’t even get your arms through it!” Pecson groused. He wiped off his reddened face before elbowing his other friend who was now engrossed in reading a message. “What’s with you, Isagani? Is Paulita looking for you already?”

Isagani had to pause to grab his glasses, which had been nearly knocked off thanks to Pecson’s gesture. “No, it’s a message from my uncle, all the way in Quezon.” Isagani’s usually fair complexion paled for a moment but color returned to his cheeks when he breathed a sigh of relief.  “He’s fine. He and his parishioners managed to evacuate even before the storm hit.”

“That’s good,” Enjolras concurred. “Do they need any help?”

“I’ll update you,” Isagani said. He reddened and nodded again when another message came to his phone. “Now that’s Paulita.”

Enjolras shrugged when Pecson and Tadeo burst out laughing. “Tadeo, is your family’s water station still open at this hour?” he asked once the chortling had died down.

Tadeo wiped his nose. “I have the keys. How many bottles you need?”

“Three hundred more.”

Pecson frowned at this estimate. “You’ll be outstripped even if we go now.”

Bahorel cleared his throat. “I’ll help source water from other places.” He slung one arm around Pecson’s shoulders and another around Tadeo’s. “Come on guys, into my chariot.”

“You’d better keep your shirt on when you work, Tadeo.  Have you any idea how unsanitary that is?” Pecson was heard to mutter en route out. “What? Ask Basilio or even Combeferre---“

“I do take a bath every day.”

Enjolras shook his head at this play bickering before looking to Isagani. “Are you sure you don’t want to accompany them?”

“Paulita said she’d meet me here,” Isagani said in a level tone. “That’s a bit of a surprise, but that’s why I’m waiting here.”

“Understood,” Enjolras said before leaving Isagani to join Courferyac and some other students who were packing up some rice. It was all that he could do not to check his own phone once again for a text message, perhaps concerning some two hundred pesos he’d left as an advance payment at a photocopy shop earlier that day. ‘ _Hopefully it’s enough for what Eponine needed today,’_ he thought as he went to where Combeferre was checking some of the wrapped and sealed bags of provisions.  “How many do we already have good to go?” he asked Combeferre in an undertone.

“Five hundred,” Combeferre replied. “We can only send out a hundred more tonight, unless Bahorel, Pecson, and Tadeo can come back quickly with more water.”

“We’ll have to prioritize areas in our primary catchment,” Enjolras muttered, opening on his phone a map of Metro Manila and its neighboring towns. He pointed to the east side of the map, from the river that ran through the metropolis all the way to a spillway beyond the city limits. “The neighbourhoods of Pasig, all the way up the resettlement areas just here----“

An uproarious laugh came from a corner wherein some volunteers were busy passing down some large cans of milk and tins of biscuits. “This is a paradox---one must trade a house and dry shoes just for these things to eat!” a man guffawed as he tossed a packet of biscuits at an unsuspecting volunteer. “It’s only in storms, in this country that the floods bring so much plenty!”

Enjolras gritted his teeth as he gave Combeferre a knowing look and then pocketed his phone. He walked up to this volunteer, who was now jocularly slapping his companions’ backs, and stood in front of him, crossing his arms. “Grantaire. How much have you had?”  

Grantaire grinned widely at Enjolras and held up his hand, spreading his fingers apart. “Enough to live long and prosper, Chief.”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow, more so when he heard Combeferre and Courfeyrac snort quite audibly. “How did you get here?”

“The horseless carriage.”

“Be serious.”

“The flood went down at Taft.”

Enjolras nodded at this bit of good news even as he saw someone gesturing to the door. “Something wrong?” he enquired.

“Capital R left the headlights on!” this other volunteer replied.

“Your keys---“ Enjolras began even as his phone suddenly rang. He nodded when Courfeyrac divested Grantaire of his car keys and headed out to remedy the parking situation. In the meantime Enjolras stepped away from the crowd in order to take the call. He took a deep breath before speaking. “Hello Eponine. Where are you?”

“Chez Fauchelevent,” Eponine’s raspy, slightly breathless voice replied. “Rain’s stopped. About to head out---using money I will pay you back soon.”

Enjolras smirked at this. “You don’t have to.”

“I insist. I know you’ll say take it---I know you, Miguel,” Eponine teased. “That’s not why I called though. I’m with Basilio and Juli, and we have to go to Sapang.”

‘ _Sapang, northeast of here,’_ Enjolras realized. “How bad is it there?”

“Bad.  Juli’s dad called, and he wants her and Basilio back right away.” Eponine  swallowed hard. “How soon can you make it?”

“Barring any flood alerts, maybe an hour?”

“Can you bring anything?”

“I won’t promise a number, but I will bring something,” Enjolras said. “See you in a while.”

“Thank you. Drive safely,” Eponine said, sounding slightly relieved before the call went dead.

‘ _You too,’_ Enjolras thought as he pocketed the phone. He went out to the parking lot, walking slowly to hear the crunch of wet concrete under his shoes, as well as to prevent slipping. He stopped where Combeferre had just finished parking a beat up station wagon and turning off its headlights. “I’m going with the first trip tonight, out to the spillway,” he said as Combeferre locked up Grantaire’s car.

Combeferre nodded quickly. “Sapang?”

“Yes. Eponine just called; she’s going with Basilio and Juli,” Enjolras said. “There’s more than a flood there, or Tales wouldn’t have asked Juli and Basilio back right away.”

Combeferre hissed. “Will you need anyone else to go with you?”

“I’ll let you know,” Enjolras promised. ‘ _Hopefully it isn’t what I think it is, otherwise we’ll have a more permanent displacement on our hands.’_


	3. Blood in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Filipino terms here: 
> 
> Lolo is the respectful term for 'grandfather'  
> Tito is the term for 'uncle'....or the parents of one's friends

_Chapter 3: Blood in the Dark_

The first time that Basilio ever went to the sitio known as Sapang, he had just been twelve years old and in need of some fresh air for his ‘weak lungs’. ‘ _I’ve been back to this place so many times but I have never seen things get as bad as this,’_ he thought as he stretched in an attempt to get more comfortable in the back of the hardy little truck he and his companions had begged a ride from just to get into this community. Though the darkness of the witching hours hid most of the devastation along the winding path, there was no missing the distinct stench of mud mingled with garbage or distinct squelch of tires on a boggy road. The medical student wrinkled his nose before glancing to where Juli was dozing next to a heap of bundles of food and clothes. He reached over to rub her ankles lightly, eliciting a soft sigh from her as she slept.

On the other side of the truck compartment, Eponine looked up from checking her phone. “No news from Juli’s dad? Enjolras is asking too,” she whispered.

Basilio glanced down at his own phone and shook his head. “He’s a _barangay_ official. He’ll be busy.”

Eponine nodded and bit her lip. “You think Tano will be allowed to go home, if his family asks?”

“Probably not,” Basilio replied. For a moment he saw once more Juli’s older brother, but wearing his favourite ratty old basketball jersey instead of the spic and span dress uniform he had worn on his graduation from the military academy. ‘ _Maguindanao needs you but we sure could use your help here now,’_ he thought as he felt the truck lurch to a stop.

“Okay kids this is as far as I can bring you,” the truck driver said before rolling down the windows and lighting a cigarette. “Take care on your way out.”

Juli yawned and sat up. “Are we there yet?”

“No-o we are not,” Eponine said in a singsong tone as she grabbed her bag. She swore under her breath as she opened the back of the truck. “It’s cold.”

‘ _People can still die of hypothermia,’_ Basilio thought even as he helped Juli pull her jacket hood over her head. He zipped up his own raingear before stepping out of the truck and reaching over to help out Juli and Eponine. He fumbled for the penlight he kept at his belt, only to hear Eponine clucking her tongue as she brought out a larger flashlight. “Where did you get it?” he asked.

“Cosette lent it to me,” Eponine said dryly. “Juli?” she asked, handing the flashlight to her friend.

Juli took the light and gave it to Basilio. “You’re better at this.”

‘ _Though she’s the one who grew up here,’_ Basilio thought even as he stepped ahead of the young women. He could still remember how Juli had laughed on the day he’d first seen her, not even an hour after arriving in Sapang. ‘ _She doesn’t wear those pink skirts anymore, but she still has that smile,’_ he thought as he looked back at Juli for a moment before leading the way down the path.

It took a few minutes before Basilio’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, enough for him to distinguish the outlines of the caved in roofs and boulders that now filled up half of Sapang’s main road. The only light in the village came from a single lamp in the schoolhouse at the end of the road. Beyond this was darkness, broken only by the pinpoint glow of the lights in the friars’ retreat house on the hill.

Juli ran forward to where a white haired man was leaving the schoolhouse, carrying a bundle wrapped in rags. “ _Lolo_! How are you?” she asked as she took his arm to help him down the steps.

The old man blinked blearily and smiled widely. “Juli, when did you get here? Where’s Basilio?”

“Right here,” Basilio said, stepping forward to also assist Juli’s grandfather. He raised an eyebrow on finding that his hand could now easily close around _Lolo_ Selo’s forearm, but he shrugged it off on seeing the far-off, worried look in the older gentleman’s eyes. “There was a rockslide here, I saw.”

Selo nodded, first to Basilio then to Eponine. “In the middle of the rainfall. Three people dead,” he added, gesturing to someplace in the schoolhouse, perhaps where the bodies were laid out. “I have to bring this to _Nana_ Rufa and her family,” he said once he had planted his feet on level ground. “Tales is in the school building,” he added over his shoulder before hurrying out into the dark.

Basilio glanced over his shoulder just to see where Selo had gone, but after a moment he followed Juli and Eponine into the schoolhouse. All the classrooms had been cleared of their desks and tables, and were now filled with families drying out their sodden belongings or chasing what sleep they could on thin mats or flattened out cardboard boxes. In one of these rooms Basilio espied a burly, deeply tanned gentleman calling off a group of other men who’d been belligerently arguing with a woman huddled in a corner, clutching two small children to her chest. “Good evening _Tito_ Tales,” he greeted.

Tales turned at the sound of Basilio’s voice. “Basilio? When did you and Juli---and Eponine too---get here?” he asked, stepping towards the door.

“Just now. We saw _Lolo_ outside,” Juli said before kissing her father’s cheek. “Why did you ask for me and Basilio to come back right away?”

“We lost the house. We need to clear our things,” Tales replied, his brow furrowing as he gestured with one hand to the gloom outside the schoolhouse.

Juli paled. “Lost?”

“The rockslide. You must have seen it on your way in.” Tales sighed deeply before smiling at Basilio. “Of course we don’t have a doctor here, but some people need their wounds cleaned. Maybe you and Juli could please have a look?”

‘ _Another upside to being a licensed nurse,’_ Basilio thought even as he nodded and then followed Juli to where she was helping the woman seated in a corner.  “What happened?” he asked in an undertone.

“Those men from the church hit him,” the woman spat in outrage, gesturing to a bruise forming on the face of a scrawny boy seated in her lap.  At her feet was her other child, a girl who only seemed to be learning then how to stand. “They were going through our things, saying we had hidden the relief goods---there aren’t any!” the mother cried.

“Help is on the way,” Eponine said from where she was leaning against the doorjamb. “He’ll be here.”

‘ _Even at this hour?’_ Basilio wondered, only a moment before he looked up into the bright light of car headlights somewhere in the street. He heard Juli laugh even as Eponine hurried out of the schoolhouse. “She might hear you,” he pointed out.

Juli shrugged as she continued helping the woman clean up her child’s injuries. “Eponine does laugh at us too,” she said. “I hear her.”

‘ _Well she’s not looking now,’_ Basilio thought even as he reached over to squeeze Juli’s hand before kneeling to help the mother continue to tend to her children.  After a while the small girl fell asleep in Basilio’s arms, while her brother still stirred listlessly in his mother’s lap. “Has he been eating?” Basilio enquired calmly.

The mother shrugged. “He doesn’t have much of an appetite on most days. Could you tell me what vitamins I can give him?”

‘ _He’ll need more than just those to get well,’_ Basilio thought as he took in the sight of the child’s prominent ribs and overall pallor. He gritted his teeth, wishing that he had brought his stethoscope, thermometer and other medical implements, but unfortunately those items were in his dormitory room all the way back in Manila.  By this time he could hear laughter and shouts outside, from the general vicinity of the car headlights. “What are they doing?”

Juli got to her feet. “Carrying out bags---of what?”

A whoop came from a man carrying a 5 gallon bottle of water to the schoolhouse. “This is courtesy of Manila Water!” he crowed. “What are you still doing there? There’s food, finally!”

“I’ll be there!” the mother of the two children yelled as she stood up. She patted Juli’s hand. “It’s just for a moment, Miss Juli.”

Juli smiled before carefully moving to tuck in the smaller child in a blanketed nook near a corner. “At least they’ll have breakfast later.”

Basilio nodded as he picked up the still awake little boy and wrapped him in his own rain jacket to provide some warmth. When he glanced back at the yard of the schoolhouse, he could now see the telltale gold of Enjolras’ hair in the crowd helping unload the car. After a while he saw Tales draw Enjolras and Eponine aside, talking to them in hushed tones. Now thoroughly intrigued, Basilio edged over to the schoolhouse door in an attempt to see better what his friends were up to. Yet as soon as he did so, he saw Enjolras glance his way. “Oops.”

“We need you here,” Enjolras said, nodding for Basilio and Juli to join them. “There’s some unrest going on in this evacuation center.”

“I couldn’t tell you while were in there,” Tales said to Basilio and Juli. He gritted his teeth as he looked at the group still unloading water bottles and food packets from the car. “Things would be mayhem here if not for the _barangay_ watchmen. I am not sure if they can stop the gangs here from fighting each other. Even the church people are getting involved too, saying the goods ought to go to the parish, not here.”

“Doesn’t the parish have its own relief efforts?” Eponine asked.

Tales shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything about that yet,” he said before going off to stand on a box in the middle of the crowd. “Alright everyone! Make _one_ line right here! Each family gets two packs of food and three bottles of water each!” he hollered over the hubbub of the crowd.

“Not enough,” Juli whispered. She elbowed Eponine. “Think you can ask your family for a little help?”

Eponine snorted. “What, my Mom and Dad?”

“Your Mom is nice.”

“I’m sure she’d help. Dad though----“ Eponine trailed off before raising a hand to land squarely on Enjolras’ lips. “I’m doing the talking when it comes to Dad.”

Enjolras deftly took Eponine’s hand and slipped his fingers between hers. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, unless you want a repeat of what happened the last time you came to dinner,” Eponine said teasingly before a sudden report cut through the dark. “What---“

“That’s where----“ Juli began before bursting into a run. “ _Lolo!_ Where are you?”

Basilio darted after her through the shrieking and fleeing crowd, to the gloomy hollow where he’d last seen _Lolo_ Selo head off to. From far off the tang of fresh blood reached his nostrils, making him pick up the pace till at last he reached a shanty half hidden by some concrete pillars. Here, a woman sat screaming, just a few paces away from a man lying face down in the ground. ‘ _One of those who was in the schoolhouse,’_ Basilio realized before looking to where Juli’s grandfather was standing, eyes wide with a blank stare, unheeding of the revolver at his feet.


End file.
